


Reunion

by ThePinkFoxx (CaramelClouds)



Category: Legends of the Guardian-King
Genre: Early Work, Gen, Inner Dialogue, One Shot, different POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-02-18
Updated: 2007-02-18
Packaged: 2017-12-14 08:28:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/834798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaramelClouds/pseuds/ThePinkFoxx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The arrival of Princess Carissa and Philip Meridon in SaHal as seen through Abramm’s eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reunion

A gentle breeze swept through the open window of the SaHal outpost, a refreshing gust of air that ruffled the Kiriathian's blonde hair as his blade clashed with the rapier of his opponent and closest friend; Trap Meridon. After the impact the headless Veren had on the Armies of the Black Moon the night before, he couldn't help but feel invigorated as the combatants matched skills in a practice session. The White Pretender and The Infidel, not having lost any vigor since fighting in the area but for the first time pitted against each other, the clash of steel ringing on steel echoing down the hallway. Abramm grinned viciously, liking the feel of power that came with combat, the fluid movement of limbs and the challenge that stood before him. Trap was the son of master swordsman Larrick Meridon, and from a young age Abramm could remember Raynen conveying tales of amazing swordsmanship that were emitted by a young Trap. Letting his thoughts wander almost cost him as Trap's blade flicked past his arm, just snagging his white tunic.

_Plagues he's fast!_

A grin stretched across Trap's face beneath the wiry red beard and he issued a break.

"Never have I trained with a more worthy opponent!" Trap said, wiping the sheer layer of perspiration that dotted his brow.

"Nor I, you nearly had my arm for a second or two." Abramm chuckled, clasping his companion on the shoulder. The distant baying of a hound drew a curious glance from the combatants. Dogs were not owned by the Dorsaddi, and they certainly couldn't recall seeing any since their arrival weeks ago; it was unlikely Shemm would purchase them for the ever present threat of war. Abramm's hand drifted to the hilt of his rapier out of habit.

A black and brown bundle of fur and stick-like limbs bounded through the door, drawing a yelp of surprise from Abramm and knocking Trap to the ground. Half a dozen Dorsaddi in salmon and orange robes bustled through the door after it. Abramm gazed at them questioningly before shifting his gaze to the bundle, a poor excuse for a hound, which happened to now eagerly licking his companion's face.

"Do you  _know_  this beast, Captain Meridon?" Abramm asked.

"Aye, his name is Newbold. He belonged to me in my days in Sterlen, though he was a gift to my brother Philip to be taken care of when I moved away." Abramm saw a look of confusion and then curiosity flash across Trap's face.

"My Lord Deliverer" one of the Dorsaddi cleared his throat, stepping forward as if realizing the reason they had come "Visitors have come to the SaHal seeking the White Pretender and the Infidel. One claims to have some relation to you. They are being detained in one of the confinement chambers, though this animal escaped. We will deal with them immediately."

"No … no that won't be necessary I shall see to it myself." Trap said, nodding to Abramm to join him. Together they walked briskly down the hall, Trap leading the way somewhat instinctively protective. Even though Trap was the acclaimed "Dorsaddi Deliverer", it seemed he still believed himself oath-bound to the Prince, something which, although slightly unnerving, Abramm had come to terms with.

Absentmindedly Abramm wondered if it  _was_  Meridon's brother who had journeyed to the SaHal for it was a most peculiar situation considering no one knew the exact whereabouts of the Dorsaddi camp, nor that The White Pretender and the Infidel resided there. Then again after all the guerilla warfare and then the episode with the Veren last night - it had quickly become common knowledge. Perhaps Beltha'adi had sent a ruse to lead them into a trap. The door opened to the room in which the captives were being held the moment they reached it, Trap stepping through first followed by Abramm and the Dorsaddi and Newbold panting softly somewhere near his feat. In the room sat a young boy who now gazed at Trap in disbelief. They held an uncanny resemblance, for the boy too had unmistakably red curly hair and a face dotted with freckles. Looking over at Trap, Abramm found his companion in a state of shock, though Abramm did not fail to notice the tightness of jaw Trap took on when he was angry. Though it did soften slightly as the boy leapt to his feet and threw himself into Meridon's arms who stood only a little taller. It was without a doubt the Infidel's brother. Abramm let his eyes wander to the other members of Philip's company; an elder man in an exotic garb, notably Thilosian, though seemingly too pale to be of direct bloodline. The other man was younger though a somewhat familiar Thilosian, with cautious eyes and undeniably attractive features. Already Abramm didn't trust him. His gaze flickered to the third figure, a woman it seemed and she also seemed familiar, like some distant memory or a dream. His eyes caught on the blonde hair, the sharp features …

_Fire and torment, not that … not now …_

Releasing his brother from embrace Trap's eyes also fell upon the female, registering almost the same instant Abramm had. Trap's eyes widened even as Abramm shrunk back in horror, for she had apparently not seen him yet. Walking toward her, Trap confirmed his suspicions and he blanched white beneath his brown tan.

"Lady  _Carissa?_ " Trap gasped, Abramm again noted the astonishment, but also picked up the dismay and horror in his companion's voice. "What are you doing here? You can't be here. Not now."

Abramm nearly choked. Carissa.  _Here._ But how? She … she was back in Balmark, Springerlan at least. Abramm's shock turned to fury. What was she thinking coming here? How had she got an idea like that into her head that she would inquire after him as the White Pretender or even more so that she had not stayed safety in Kiriath? Did she not understand that as the White Pretender he could take care of himself? Her being here … it could ruin everything … even so, she frowned at Trap's rather blunt reception.

"We have come to bring you home – or away, in any case. Though our plans are somewhat in disarray at the moment …" Carissa explained though unable to put what she was saying into words, trailed off and gazed at Trap in disbelief.

_She could ruin everything; as much as I love her she won't understand the struggle the Dorsaddi face. She won't understand how much these people mean to me now._

Abramm felt Trap's gaze upon him but he could not draw his eyes away from his twin who sat before him, her eyes now locking with his. And there it was - the recognition that fluttered across her hawkish features implied that she now understood who he was. Even from where he was standing Abramm could see the tears glistening in her blue eyes.

"Abramm?" she asked nervously, as he strode toward her. "I thought you were dead, I thought - " Abramm caught her as she flung her arms around him, moistening his tunic with her tears. Abramm, slightly embarrassed, put his arms around her, embracing her tightly. She smelled of onion and travel and her face was creased with something beyond relief, as if she had been through more turmoil in the past few days than in her entire lifetime. He could not help but feel sorry for her, amidst the ill-timing of her arrival, and the destruction it could bring … it was refreshing to see a friendly Kiriathian face again. Memories of a forgotten past welled up inside him, even as he tried to push them aside they were all too ready to suffocate him upon the arrival of a link to his past. A past he would rather forget.

"What are you doing here, Riss?" he asked in Kiriathian as they drew apart, though keeping hold of her shoulders and looking into the feminine features of his own. "Bad enough you were in Qarkeshan, but Jarnek is on the verge of war." And it was true, a battlefield was no place for a lady, let alone a princess and seeing that she was kept safe would deplete valuable time and resources that could have been used else where.

"I know" She sighed in that familiar way she always did when she was slightly flustered "But there was a plague in Vedel so we had to go around and … it is a very long story, Abr ... er ... I mean, Eld … " Abramm watched her falter, her gaze flickering to his rapier and away. He couldn't help but scowl as another memory wrenched at his thoughts. He dropped his hands from her shoulders in frustration. All these years he had spent escaping his past and here it was staring him in the face. Not that it mattered, that chapter had long since closed, he felt more at home here with the Dorsaddi than he had anywhere, but even pushed to the back of his subconscious, the reality of the situation in Kiriath irritated him like a splinter. He stepped back from his twin.

"You were right the first time – it's Abramm. And that, too, is a long story".  _A very long story_. He scowled at Trap who also had a hand in  _that_  development. Even as he did he could feel Carissa's gaze upon him.

_Plagues, why does she keep staring at me like that?_

He shifted uncomfortably, straightening his shoulders. He couldn't help but feel disgruntled over the way they had parted so long ago, even the encounter they had now and the way she held something close to admiration in her blue Kalladorne eyes.

"Carissa, stop looking at me like that."

"I saw you fight in Xorofin, Abramm" she hadn't taken her eyes off him and probably noticed the grimace that lined his face. Xorofin was the biggest challenge he had faced, and was a bloody battle of skill and strategy.

"Aye, well, I was very lucky. And we have other concerns - " He frowned, his brow furrowing in thought and anger as he realized what this meant. Could this get any worse? He couldn't keep the anger from darkening his tone " _You_ were in Xorofin?"

"After Katahn betrayed me and took you, I wanted to make it right – if I could. We've been following the Pretender ever since…"

He couldn't take it anymore, she was mad. Marching in here expecting him to come home no doubt, to face Gillard and win back the crown, after everything he had achieved here she expected him to throw it all away.

_Sweet fires aloft! What was she thinking?_

"Are you out of your mind?" he asked, his voice raising slightly.

He lived a different life now, but the thought of her gallivanting all over Esurh was infuriating – she was extremely lucky she had not been captured and given to a commanding officer as a prize. Even if he was angry at her, he still cared for her and the fact that she had put herself at risk for undue reason angered him more. But funnily enough it was not out of character for his sibling. What exactly did she intend to do once she'd found him? This was none of her business!

Carissa went on to introduce her companions, Abramm was surprised though somewhat puzzled over the realization that Felmen Cooper accompanied his sister. He was formally introduced to Philip who was indeed Trap's brother, but it was the Thilosian that drew Abramm's eye. Again the spark of familiarity flared, but was snuffed out almost instantly in a shroud of uncertainty. This stranger seemed too forward, and whilst he said all the right words Abramm couldn't help but feel perhaps it wasn't genuine. But he  _had_  got them here safely as Carissa explained, and that he was thankful for. Lost in his own thoughts, Abramm almost didn't notice the soft chuckle coming from his sister's direction.

He couldn't stop a small smile tugging at his own lips.

"Something amuses you?"

"I was just imagining Uncle Simon's face if he could see you now. The White Pretender." Ah yes, Uncle Simon. How could he forget the mocking smile and humiliating dismay at Abramm's flailing childhood. "And this …" she continued, ruffling his short beard between her knuckles and giggling "I wouldn't have thought you could even grow one. It makes you look quite fierce."

He raised an eyebrow in doubtful fondness. Amidst everything that had happened she was still the same old Riss. Again, Abramm felt Trap's presence somewhere at his side; an ever-present shadow of protection and an unobtrusive comfort. Meridon eyed Carissa's companions thoughtfully, if not suspiciously before his gaze met Abramm's.

"We'd best get back, my lord."

Abramm sighed as the moment of contentment passed, knowing all too well that Trap was right. There was much to do, and already the enemy had the upper hand. War was approaching, and the lives of many people would depend on the choices he and Trap would be forced to make. Then there was Beltha'adi's challenge … he pushed the thought aside.

"He's right. I'm afraid we have no time for lengthy reunions. Come." He nodded to Trap as they strode from the room, followed in turn by the newly acquired persons. Even as they walked down the hallway to the Dorsaddi encampment, Abramm could not shake the irrevocable sense of destiny that presently gripped his soul.

**Author's Note:**

> This fan-fic is set in book one "The Light of Eidon" upon the arrival of Princess Carissa and Philip Meridon in SaHal as I think it would have been seen through Abramm's eyes. As much as I would like to claim it, the conversation between Abramm and Carissa in the latter part of this story is in fact in the original story, but the thoughts during and the storyline beforehand are of my own demise (such as the practice session between Abramm and Trap). Written 2006.


End file.
